The Letter from Dean
by D890
Summary: Sam finds something Dean left for him. Set post season three/pre season four.


The Letter from Dean

As he unlocked the door, Sam slowly stepped into the room and looked around at the dingy décor. This was his third motel room in the last week and they had all looked the same: dingy.

He knew when Dean was with him the only things they'd really cared about when checking into a room was that there had to be two beds and there had to be plenty of hot water. But since Dean…

Sam had to stop thinking about 'since'. He didn't have Dean with him anymore. The pain was still there. The feel of Dean always by his side was still there. The need for Dean and his snarky comments, his greasy food cravings, his cruisin' for a good one night stand, Sam's memories of Dean always there and of always having his back, those things were all still there with him. What was not there was Dean himself.

It had been two months since Dean had been taken from Sam. Two months since Lilith had let the hellhound drag his brother's soul to Hell. Two months since Sam had been forced to watch as his brother's body had been torn apart. Two months.

Sam tossed his duffel bag on one of the beds as he slowly sank down on the foot of the other bed and then laid back to stare up at the dingy ceiling.

He felt the burn of the tears as they slid sideways down his face, past his ears and into the mop of his hair. He tried to stop them, but then he suddenly didn't care anymore. He was tired of the loneliness, tired of the quiet, tired of the tears he'd already shed, but most of all he was just tired of being Sam Winchester.

Sam had tried everything to get Dean back. He'd tried spells, he'd tried praying to a God that Dean himself wasn't even sure really existed, and he had even tried to sell his own soul to a crossroads demon. Nothing. No one would help him. The only thing Sam knew for sure was that Dean was dead… and in Hell.

Sam slowly got up and shuffled over to his duffel. He needed a shower. He reeked and he needed to try and at least get some sleep or he'd be dead too.

The thought of dying had crossed Sam's mind several times these past months and he had no problem with dying; in fact he would have welcomed it if for only one reason. That he would be with Dean. Even in Hell, going through hell, he would be with his brother and because he didn't know where he'd end up, he had decided he wouldn't let himself die by his own hands. But he also wouldn't stop someone else from putting an end to his misery.

Sam dragged out the last set of clean clothes he had noting that tomorrow would mean a trip to the laundry mat. He thought how normal that would be; doing laundry.

He also noted that he'd forgotten to grab the small duffel bag that held some of the necessities of life such as toiletries and their first aid kit. He was getting a headache and he really needed some aspirin.

He dug the Impala's keys from his pocket and headed out the door and over to Dean's car. Dean's car… passed down to him from their dad and now passed on to Sam. He smiled sadly as he lovingly ran his hand down the side of Dean's baby. She was really a beautiful car even if Sam had given Dean crap about her only getting about eight miles to the gallon. Sam loved this car almost as much as his brother had. He grew up in this car and he had ridden shotgun in this car all of his adult life. The only time he hadn't sat by Dean's side in this car had been the four years he'd spent at Stanford.

God, that was a lifetime ago. He hadn't been back with Dean quite three years before losing him, but in all honesty, they had been three of the best years of his life. Spending that time with Dean; learning more of what made Dean tick; he had never told Dean how much he had loved being back with him, because he still had had hopes of trying to find that elusive perfect life. But now he knew that life was never destined to be for him. Nor for any Winchester. Their fates had been decided that day when he was six months old and their mother had been taken from them.

It didn't matter that Azazel was defeated, no longer around to cause harm to the Winchesters. He had already done the damage to their lives and they were now destined to live them out as such. Which meant Sam was now alone. Sure he had Bobby, and he clearly cared deeply for Bobby, but he needed Dean. Dean was the only person who knew everything about Sam. Knew everything about every evil thing out there. Dean was the only person who Sam could trust to have his back.

Sam unlocked the trunk of the Impala and reached in for the small duffel. He slammed the trunk closed and headed back to the motel room with the bag bumping against his legs as he walked. Sam entered the room and closed the door behind him and headed to the bathroom with the bag.

He got to the bathroom and dropped the bag on the counter and started digging for the first aid kit. The Winchester first aid kit was different than a normal first aid kit. Not counting the unorthodox contents such as holy water, it also contained various drugs of both the oral and injectable kinds. From antibiotics to pain medications, the Winchesters had to take care of their selves most of the time. A lot of their injuries couldn't always be easily explained in the local ER departments, so they avoided hospitals as much as possible.

The Winchester first aid kit was also contained in what some would call a tackle box. They needed the many little trays and slots to hold various items such as suture needles and threads for stitching each other up after many a knife wound or claw marks from various evil entities. Sam smiled weakly as he opened the box and peered inside. Still stocked from the last time. Dean had made sure it was stocked; just before… before New Harmony, Indiana.

Sam sighed as he pulled the lid open and the top try moved back with the lid to open up for the removable tray that Sam reached in and lifted out as they kept the aspirin bottle in the bottom of the box. When he lifted the tray out and sat it aside, he saw it. He had no idea how it got in there until he saw the next handwriting. The envelope was legal sized and had 'Sammy' written in perfect penmanship across the front. Dean's penmanship.

People were always surprised when they met the two of them and found out that Dean had perfect handwriting. The man looked and acted like he was living out his life from one minute to the next, always rushing around, couldn't sit still for too long, always making things up as he went along, but when you looked at his handwriting, you saw a person who took the time to let people know every detail with extreme clarity. He took great care in his writing. Sam's handwriting on the other hand was chicken scratch and no one outside of Dean and Jess had ever been able to read it.

Sam pulled the envelope out and ran a finger over his name written by Dean. The envelope felt heavy, there had to be several pages inside and Sam suddenly felt the urge to rip it open and read what Dean had to say, as a way to have Dean close to him right now. He almost did just that, until he realized that if Dean had taken the time to write him the letter, then the contents were most likely going to break Sam even more than he already was.

Dean didn't do chick flick moments, but something about this letter had chick flick written all over it. Dean had hidden it away knowing that Sam wouldn't find it until after he was gone, so it was most likely very chick flick.

Slowly Sam put down the seat on the toilet and sat down with the letter in his trembling hands. He took a deep breath, then another. _Dean what have you done here? How am I supposed to read this without breaking down?_

Sam tried to push all emotions to the back of his mind as he turned the envelope over and ripped open the outer flap and pulled out a set of neatly tri-folded pages.

He tossed the envelope onto the bathroom counter and slowly opened the pages to see the first thing that jumped out at him. He began reading slowly as he tried to keep his breathing steady and regulated.

_Sammy,_

_I know you hate the nickname Sammy, but to me you will forever be that chubby twelve year old that followed me everywhere, even when I didn't want you to, so deal with it. You will always be Sammy to me._

_If you've found this letter, then it means I am dead and we weren't able to find a way out of my deal. I'm okay with that Sammy, really. I just need you to know that I wouldn't have changed a thing to get out of this deal if it meant I still lost you. I stand by my decision to save you because you have always meant more to this world than I could ever mean to it._

_You're the one that has the heart for understanding what really needs to be done and said to protect the innocent. I'm just a soldier. Always have been. My job has always been to look out for you and keep you safe. I have always tried to do that. So please give me that now. I made sure you were safe and that's all that was important to me. Well, almost all._

_Take the time to live the life you once tried to when you left for Stanford. Take the time to see the world. I know it will be hard without being able to let others know who you were, about all the evil that's out there, but if anyone deserves it, it's you. You didn't ask to be a part of the world we were raised in, so move on, Sammy. You deserve that life that was taken away from you when you lost Jess._

_You were right when you once said that I was lonely and that's why I came to get you at school. I was always dreaming of it just being me, you and dad on the road like the old times. I really only knew those times and that's what I remember best when I think of being happy. Your dream was always to go to school, make a life and get out of the hunter life. My dream has always been for us to be a family again. For me, happiness was driving down a deserted two lane highway with the windows rolled down, AC/DC blaring through the car speakers and you riding shotgun by my side._

_That's the other thing that was always important to me. I knew I couldn't go on with this life without my brother, so I traded places with you and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I know it may have seemed selfish to you, making you be the one who has to be alone now, but I think I've earned the right to be a little selfish._

_I took care of you, protected you, fought for you, and I wouldn't have done it any differently. So, if it's selfish to let you have a long healthy life, then I'm okay with that. I have fought every evil son of a bitch I had to throughout my life and I'm tired, Sammy, really tired. I'm ready to let this life go._

_So Sammy, take care of my baby and go find yourself a nice girl. Settle down somewhere and raise lots of little Winchesters and don't look back. Take the time to stop and see life without the dark ugliness that surrounded us for all our lives. Enjoy life and don't stop believing._

_Dean_

_P.S. Forget all that bullshit. If you can find a way to get me back, then fuckin' do it! Gotcha! Laugh Sammy!_

_But seriously, if you can do it without ending yourself, find Lilith and send that bitch to me. I'll take it from there._

_Remember Sammy, it's always been about the job, the hunt, the life. But it was never ruled by the job, the hunt or the life. It was ruled by us. We choose our destiny; not some evil son of a bitch. We ruled the night. We ruled ourselves. We make our own destiny. Our work is over; let someone else take it from here. Set your own path, Sammy. Set your own destiny._

_We did a lot of good Sammy and the sons a bitches will never take that away from us. We saved a lot of people and we fought the good fight. We kicked it in the ass. We won even when we lost. Live free, Sammy._

_Good-bye,_

_Dean_

Sam looked at the pages in his fingers as he realized that Dean was right. It was time to let go and live free. Sam smiled through the tears that had been falling from his eyes as he had read the letter. The letter from Dean.

The End


End file.
